


the rest of the world falls away

by eraseallpicturesofron



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mentions of kids, Post-Canon, Talking About The Future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 11:57:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15605781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eraseallpicturesofron/pseuds/eraseallpicturesofron
Summary: “Come on. The Clave, the Institute, none of that on your mind. What do you see for your future?”“I don’t know.”“Alexander.”“You. Us.”or: Alec has a momentary crisis, Magnus has an ongoing crisis, and the two of them spitball the future.





	the rest of the world falls away

**Author's Note:**

> my first complete (and posted!!) malec fic :)))
> 
> title from "only us" from "dear evan hansen"

The instant that Alec declares that he’s in the midst of a midlife crisis is the same instant that Magnus dubs it Not-A-Midlife-Crisis, and Alec decides they can agree to disagree before throwing himself onto the couch with either the natural melodrama of a Lightwood or something he picked up from his boyfriend. Magnus prefers blaming the former.

With a scoff and a smile, drink still in his hand, Magnus falls back onto the couch, his legs flying out in front of him as he lands with impeccable grace. Alec takes no notice. He pinches his eyes closed, one hand running combing through the unkempt hair that sticks out in all directions, the other hanging off the side of the couch.

“Scooch,” Magnus commands, and Alec raises his head only for a moment before resting it down on Magnus’s lap.

“I love you, Alexander,” he says. He places his drink down on the table beside the couch and uses the hand to tap his fingers against Alec’s button-down clad chest, the other hand running his fingers through his boyfriend’s tousled dark mane. “But I don’t think you can have a midlife crisis at twenty-five. And there’s the slightest chance that you’re being ridiculous.”

Alec glances up at him sulking with a clear pout, surely aware of how childish he looks with his knit eyebrows and scrunched nose, but still letting out a tired groan and pressing his cheek against Magnus’s stomach. For a second they appear a picture of serenity; Magnus holds him close and Alec takes comfort in the fact that he is being supported— or at least, physically supported, because Magnus is making fun of him and maybe (just maybe) he is being a tad dramatic.

As Alec responds with an audible groan, Magnus can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes, just to tease, before bending down to plant a kiss on Alec’s forehead. Lips spreading into a smile, he adds in a whisper, “Only the slightest chance, though.”

He expects a smile in return, though Alec raises his hand from where it hung off the couch and pinches the bridge of his nose. His face reveals nothing but stress: eyebrows furrowed, lines of concern dance across his forehead, and he sighs with a slow, steady exhale. “Midlife crisis” may have been an utter exaggeration, but perhaps somewhat of a crisis was not completely out of the picture.

“What is it?” Magnus asks, his worry overshadowing his teasing.

A beat of silence; Alec’s stressed expression morphing into one of intense concentration as his tongue sticks out from between closed lips, seemingly trying to make sense of his thoughts.

“I wanted something for a long time,” he starts, stumbling to explain his too many feelings and thoughts, “and now I don’t know if I do anymore. I’m wondering if I ever did.”

Magnus starts to formulate a response, opening his mouth and closing it within the second. He wants to give some sort of helpful advice, but he isn’t completely sure the root of Alec’s problem, and settles on a teasing response.

“I hope you aren’t talking about a boyfriend.”

Alec smiles at the comment for the first time in their conversation, a brilliant smile. Tilting his head back, neck curling around Magnus’s sculpted thighs, his grin spreads wide as he laughs. His tense shoulders don’t feel as tight in Magnus’s lap as if the humor lifted a weight off of them, and he confirms, “I’m not talking about a boyfriend. I’m not going anywhere.”

Magnus grins at the words, glad to hear the reassurance, though the air around him is still thick with concern while he twists his fingers through Alec’s hair. He presses once again, “Then what is it?”

“I’ve wanted to be head of the Institute for as long as I’ve known. My parents wanted it so much that I couldn’t think of a future with any other job, or… any other life. But now?” he exhales, long and slow, and explains, “I’m doing meaningless work, the Clave doesn’t want anything to do with me, and you and I hardly have any time together.”

All which are true statements, the last of them especially so. Alec had moved into the loft less than a year prior, though both of their work schedules only led to stolen kisses before the day began and tender embraces hours after the sun had dipped beneath the horizon. The grand majority of texts on Magnus’s phone read the same apologetic “working later, have to miss dinner, so sorry, I love you xx”, and their current conversation stood at the longest one that they had shared in weeks.

Even so, Magnus would feel selfish to complain; they both made sacrifices for their relationship. He shakes his head.

“I shouldn’t be the reason you’re doubting your entire life.”

“Well you’re my life now. My future.”

Alec says it so casually; he’s always been that way, a blunt romantic, but even so, Magnus is touched. Focusing his attention twirling Alec’s hair around his index finger, he contemplates his next words. He has always been the one to stop talk about the future, but it’s the stress clear as day on Alec’s face that pushes him to suggest, “Then take a moment.”

Stop with the work, with the late nights, with the demanding and disgusting and prejudiced Clave who wore his boyfriend to the bone and gave him nothing in return.

At Alec’s blank expression, Magnus continues, “I think that you have always had an idea of what your future was supposed to be-”

“‘Til you came around,” Alec cuts off, wrinkled nose and cheeky grin, “messed everything up.”

The stress seems to have rolled off his back as he jokes, his skin around his eyes crinkling as he takes Magnus’s free hand in his own. He rubs his thumb against Magnus’s knuckles, and Magnus can’t help but smile back at him. He concurs with the joke with an agreeing “exactly”, then saying more seriously, “I think you need to take a moment to think about what you really want. I know we haven’t really talked about this much, but…” he trails off, waiting for Alec to interject.

And he does, Alec’s voice soft when he says, “I don’t want to rush you.”

“I’m not the one in the midst of a midlife crisis,” Magnus counters; although he doesn’t know where this new fearlessness about the future comes from, he nudges, “Come on. The Clave, the Institute, none of that on your mind. What do you see for your future?”

“I don’t know.”

“ _Alexander_.”

“You. Us.”

When Alec says it, he closes his eyes. He continues to hold onto Magnus’s hand, though his focus turns towards twisting the assortment of rings that decorate Magnus’s fingers. Talking about the future always shut him down, certainly because Magnus always makes it clear that he would prefer to live in the moment. The fact that Alec’s thoughts are eating him up inside encourages Magnus to let himself dream. Just for a moment. 

“Running off to the Italian countryside?” he prompts. Alec opens one eye, squinting to keep the other closed as he tries to read Magnus’s face.

“That would be incredible,” he admits.

Magnus titters, pushing his own worries to the side as he combs Alec’s locks back from his forehead, musing, “You would love the countryside, or oh! Lake Como. So serene, it’d be good for you.”

“We could live in a little house and there would be peace and quiet. Just me and you,” Alec agrees. There’s a twinkle in those hazel eyes when he says it, like he’d thought about it before. He must have, Magnus realizes, when Alec adds thoughtfully, “We could have date nights in the city.”

The comment gets the ball rolling, pushing Magnus to think that if their version of talking about the future is delving into the world of the hypothetical, it’s something he can handle. Letting himself share Alec’s bright smile, he suggests, “You can learn how to cook!”, instantly to be countered with a serious, “I know how to cook.”

Caught up in the moment, with the idea of pure joy with no strings attached dangling in front of him, Magnus doesn’t bother arguing, and instead hides his smile and agrees quite seriously, “You’re right, dear.”

“We wouldn’t have to deal with bureaucracy–”

“–or New York City demon attacks–”

“–or Clary and Jace’s nonsense,” Alec interjects, grin taking up his whole face.

Magnus can’t stifle his snort at the comment, and then they’re laughing like they hadn't in too long of a time, spitballing the first ideas that came to mind with wide smiles and a lack of seriousness.

“We could get a Vespa,” Magnus says, Alec concurring instantly.

“Or climb a volcano.”

“Rides the canals, like tourists.”

“Spend our days on the beach.”

“The High Warlock of Milan owes me a few hundred favors. We could get a spectacular house in Lombardy, right on the lake.”

“Raise our kids there.”

Silence falls between them as Alec presses his lips closed, seeming to wish the words didn’t fall out of his mouth the instant they do, his stress from earlier reappearing without a moment’s notice as he tries to read Magnus’s expression. They’d never made it that far, to kids, when discussing the future. Magnus remembers ending nearly every discussion with “there’s nothing wrong with staying in the present, Alexander”, quite possibly shutting Alec down more times than he should have.

He doesn’t want this conversation to end in another spat, and through a small part of him is still waiting for Alec to take back his words, “I can’t quit my job though”, “we can’t just run away”, and “I only meant it to be a dream” aren’t anything he begins to say. Instead, Alec quietly admits, “That’s what I want. One day.”

“You want kids,” Magnus doesn’t ask it as a question, instead, a statement. He doesn’t want to start a fight, as every conversation about the future seems to produce one, so he lets any other words die on his tongue.

“Yes.” A pause. “With you.”

“So when you say you don’t know what you want for the future,” Magnus starts, trailing off to let Alec finish the thought. 

“Most Nephilim are married and with children in less than two years. It’s what I’ve always known. I’m still trying to hold back.”

Magnus surprises himself with his response when the words that come out of his mouth are nothing but the truth.

“I think raising kids with you sounds like a dream.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. That’s good… that’s…” Alec beams as he pulls Magnus’s hand to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss to his knuckles. “That’s great.”

“I guess your crisis has been averted?”

“It has,” Alec confirms, and as he closes his eyes with a new found serenity, Magnus could say the same is true for himself.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! kudos and comments are love <3


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